


Best Laid Plans

by falsteloj



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Chocolate Box Exchange, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 18:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9621110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsteloj/pseuds/falsteloj
Summary: Lucas' plans for impressing Henry go from bad to worse.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgylePirateWD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/gifts).



Strictly speaking, Lucas wasn’t an early morning kind of person. You couldn’t properly appreciate the horror genre if you were the type of guy who went to bed early, and you couldn’t hope to sport the vampiric complexion he had been rocking his entire adult life if you enjoyed fresh air and sunshine.

Luckily, Henry Morgan was a great motivating factor.

Had him shifting from foot to foot with anticipation of their train arriving, or maybe that was the jug of coffee he had got through to ensure he was out of the door on time at such an ungodly hour. Henry seemed happy to humor him, either way, and once they were in their seats Lucas couldn’t stop talking.

Jiggled his foot with nervous energy and rambled on about anything and everything, Henry smiling at him occasionally as though he were actually listening. As though he were actually enjoying this latest bout of verbal incontinence.

It made him talk all the more, because at least if he was talking he wasn’t daydreaming wistfully about the cologne Henry was wearing, and just how very beautiful his eyes were.

That was the problem right there, the pining and the losing himself every time their eyes met, because Henry was his boss. His super smart, super sophisticated boss who would probably die laughing if he knew how pathetically in love Lucas was with him.

Because he was, desperately so.

He had spent the entire week thinking about how awesome this was going to be. How romantic the scenario was, a whole weekend away with Henry Morgan, just the two of them.

And a conference room full of people interested in the decomposition rates of the human body in unusual circumstances.

Nothing was perfect.

* * *

By the time they arrived at the hotel Lucas was mellowing a little. Not calm, exactly, but part of him knew he ought to be conserving some energy for meeting dozens of total strangers.

He felt almost confident as he strode up to the check-in desk, proof that he was totally an adult, and not the awkward kid he had once been. That he had his life under control, and that people were not going to be subtly shifting their chairs away, and leaving him the last guy to be picked when they moved on to the dreaded group activities.

Then the clerk delivered the most crushing blow, and he was back to stuttering idiot.

“I have your reservation,” she said, swiveling the screen to prove it, “but it’s for a double room, not two singles.”

“It can’t be,” Lucas insisted, rifling through the folder of paper he had spent hours painstakingly printing and paperclipping together. He had booked the room, and used the discount code, and double checked, and -

And maybe, just maybe, she was right because he had fussed to make sure the dates were right, and the whole thing had seemed to crash, just for a moment, before the order went through.

“Is there a problem?” Henry asked, all charming smile, and Lucas rubbed a hand at the back of his neck and wished the ground would swallow him whole.

Explained the situation, hyper aware of the flush staining his cheeks, and the miserable churning in the pit of his stomach.

Why could nothing ever go right for him?

Henry frowned, serious, then put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Understanding without being told - without Lucas wanting him to - how much he would appreciate the gesture.

“Well, can we book another room now?”

That would have been the obvious solution. The clerk shook her head apologetically.

“I’m afraid not. We’re fully booked for a conference.”

Typical.

How many people wanted to know about the life cycle of the maggot anyway?

“We’ll manage,” Henry said easily. “At least there’s a bed and that’s a lot better than some of the places I’ve stayed.”

Of course it was, Lucas thought miserably even as he grabbed at his bags and scurried for the elevator.

Henry had done  _everything_.

* * *

The room was nice, at least. Neat and clean, and dominated by the kind of bed that frequently featured in Lucas’ private fantasies. All soft sheets and fluffy pillows because, apparently, the only way in which he wasn’t a crushing schoolgirl was that he was willing to forgo the rose petals.

“Don’t worry about it,” Henry told him as he stashed his bags. “That bed is plenty big enough for both of us.”

Lucas cast another glance at the bed in question and swallowed.

Was treated to a sudden technicolor image of what it would be like, if this were really a lovers’ getaway, and Henry really was going to push him back on to that well sprung mattress. If Henry was going to kiss him, and strip him, and -

He shook his head and told himself to get a grip. Now was neither the time or the place for it.

A slide show on the decay rates of human remains in an arid environment was the perfect way of focusing the mind on something other than Henry, and sex. Henry _and_ sex. Henry leaned in close to whisper something about skeletonization and, no, actually, the topic wasn’t doing much to prevent the inevitable reaction after all.

It was just the heat of Henry’s breath against the shell of his ear, and that accent - oh, that accent - doing exactly the same thing it always did to him.

He was relieved, kind of, when the unavoidable group work was announced and he found himself teamed up with half a dozen people he had never spoken to before. Most notable were the motherly type who was wearing one pair of glasses and had another pushed into her mass of curly hair, a guy who looked like he hadn’t slept in over a week, and a girl who had so many facial piercings Lucas wanted to ask how much it set her back in Tegaderm.

Medical Examiners were a strange bunch, there was no denying it.

But the thing was that he could hold his own. Didn’t doubt his ability to contribute something useful and, when they were told they would need someone to present their findings to the rest of the room, he shocked himself by being the one to volunteer for it.

He felt something tug at him when his gaze met Henry’s but he didn’t falter. Just kept going, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and when they returned to their original seats Henry leaned in close again to say,

“That was really impressive, you should be proud of yourself.”

Maybe it wasn’t precisely what he wanted from Henry, but it was close enough that he grinned gormlessly all through a panel on putrefaction.

Next to Henry and surrounded by death, what more could anyone ask for?

* * *

By the time the business side of things wound up for the day, he was more than ready for dinner. Was hungry enough to eat a horse, and he got to gaze at Henry across a fancy restaurant table into the bargain.

He couldn’t help wasting a few moments imagining himself the dashing hero of a romance novel, the kind who inspired love-struck looks of devotion from their dining partners.

Wasted a few more casting himself as the blushing heroine, the type with the unconventional good looks who drove gentlemen wild with wanting. Henry, of course, was the gentleman in this instance. He even pulled his chair out for him because he was too busy tripping over his shoelaces and trying to upright the glasses and the menus he had jostled over.

“Sorry,” he apologized, then knocked his drink so that it sloshed over the tablecloth and had to apologize again.

Henry just smiled at him - ever the gentleman - and said,

“Don’t be.”

The easy acceptance worked wonders on his nerves. Got him relaxed enough to simply enjoy the meal, and the conversation which accompanied it. The wine was probably helping some, Henry’s taste being predictably impeccable, and when they reached dessert Lucas had almost forgotten that this was probably supposed to be awkward.

Because he was going to be sharing a bed with Henry in the very near future, and have to try to pretend that he wouldn't chew off his own hand, or something as equally disgusting, just on the offchance that Henry might touch him. 

Thankfully he didn't have the brain power to think about it. The gooey chocolate concoction in front of him was so good, too good, and he realized way too late that he was moaning around his spoon like an extra in some low rate porn movie. It was after he had finished his own serving, and after Henry had offered him his barely touched portion.

It was about the time he looked up to see Henry staring at him, gaze intense and jaw just a little slack, and Lucas felt the tips of his ears burn even as all the blood in his body seemed intent on making a rush southwards.

He should have put the spoon down then. Should have been sensible and thought about what it was going to mean, when he woke up with a hangover and the certain knowledge Henry didn’t want anything more to do with him.

But the drink was impairing his reason and, besides, he already had more than enough reason to be feeling lightheaded.

So he scraped the dish clean and maintained eye contact as he swiped the chocolate off his spoon with a broad swipe of his tongue. Henry’s own cheeks flushed at that, just a hint of color, and his voice sounded rough like Lucas had never heard it when he said,

“I think it might be time to retire for the evening.”

* * *

It was a short journey from the hotel restaurant to their room. A couple of minutes of walking, maybe, and then a couple more in the elevator.

It felt like an eternity.

Felt like he could scarcely draw enough breath, his mind scurrying between desperate arousal and blind panic. Because he had to be reading this wrong. Had most likely knocked himself out with his own clumsiness and was currently trapped in a kinky fever dream.

He pinched his arm hard, just in case, but all it did was make him hiss in pain - and then shiver all over, because the sound made Henry look right at him.

His eyes were dark, mesmerizing, and Lucas was so lost in them that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the bell dinged and the elevator doors slid open. From there he had no hope. Struggled to simply put one foot in front of the other as they made their way down the corridor, and then through the door of the hotel room.

“Lucas,” Henry said as soon as they were alone, and it was the way he said it that snapped the tenuous hold on his self-control Lucas had been clinging to.

He pushed forward, helpless, and Henry’s hand came up to tenderly cup his cheek, even as he pressed their lips together. Even as Lucas’ fingers curled tight in the fabric of Henry’s jacket, the heat, the solidity, of the other man just as much a turn on as he had always known it would be.

“It’s all right,” Henry soothed, soft and breathless, when Lucas’ kisses turned frantic. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please,” Lucas heard himself say, and he wouldn’t have recognized the sound as his own voice. Didn’t recognize his actions as his own; the shaking and the trembling as Henry undressed him, as Henry pressed kisses along his jaw and down his neck, sure, that was a given. But the way he pushed things further - the way he fought with Henry’s buttons and fastenings, and the way his hands explored the flesh he exposed.

That was something else entirely.

Henry didn’t seem too perturbed. Simply pulled him in close to kiss him all over again and then returned the favor. Got him on his back and did things that ought to be illegal, if what they did to his heart rate was anything to go by.

He kissed him, and touched him, and stroked his fingers across the soft skin of his stomach over and over, until Lucas couldn’t quit shivering, couldn’t keep quiet, panting and whimpering all kinds of things he would be embarrassed about, if he weren’t so far gone he’d do anything if it only meant Henry never stopped whatever it was he was doing.

“You’ve no idea what you do to me,” Henry told him, like he had the whole scenario backwards, but Lucas didn’t have the capacity to over think it. Not when Henry put his mouth on him and he was so busy arching up off the bed, fingers clawing at the covers.

“I can’t,” he warned, because it seemed the polite thing to do, “I have to.”

Henry didn’t let up any. Just put a palm across his belly and did something with his tongue, and that was it, he was coming, every muscle straining as Henry swallowed around him. He did his best to reciprocate in some way, limbs heavy and uncoordinated, but Henry just kissed him again. Tangled his free hand with one of Lucas’ own and pushed into the other, gasping against Lucas’ mouth as he spilled over his fingers.

“That was amazing,” Lucas managed when he had some measure of control over himself again. “Like, really amazing.”

Henry brushed his hair back off his forehead and smiled, expression soft like it was in all of Lucas’ favorite fantasies, and somehow Lucas knew that this wasn't going to be a one time thing. 

That this was the start of something so perfect he wanted to watch sunrises and write poetry, and immediately update all his social media relationship statuses.

“I think I'm inclined to agree with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, feel free to chat / hit me with prompts over on Tumblr [@serenwib](http://serenwib.tumblr.com/) or Twitter [@falsteloj](https://twitter.com/falsteloj). :)


End file.
